When you put a note in a book
by StarsOfYaoi
Summary: *Karkat/Dave* Dave drags Karkat at a bookstore for one of their dates to put random notes inside books. inspired by the 'list of unusal date ideas', tip 2. Slight Twilight/50 Shades of red Bashing.


**SOY:** My OTP here for you, I hope you enjoy!

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**Rating**: PG–13

**Warnings:** Dave's and Karkat's speech.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own HomeStuck.

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**When you put a note in a book…**

**One–shot**

"So wait, tell me why we're here again, please, I don't think my thinkpan comprehended your reasoning the first time you spouted it out," Karkat stared at Dave with both his eyebrows raised high, waiting for the other to indulge him.

Dave smiled cheekily, leaning forwards to bop Karkat on his head with the book he was holding; Karkat twisted his mouth into a grimace and pulled away.

"We're on a date," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His smirk said otherwise.

"I know _that_, shitstain," Karkat grunted out, trying to keep his voice low for the sake of the fact they were standing in a mall bookstore. "But it seems I was wrong, because this isn't certainly what I'd call a proper date, Strider".

Dave brought his empty hand up to his chest, backing away and dramatically swaying until his back hit the 'new arrivals' shelf.

"You wound me babycakes, honeybunch, sweetiepie," he intoned with a perfect monotone. Still the nicknames were embarrassing enough that Karkat felt himself flush. "I know you mean business when you use my amazing surname, Karkittenmittens".

"Would you–" Karkat glanced around, grateful that there was nobody close enough to hear Dave's amazingly bad nicknames. "Would you cut it with those… horrible petnames oh God Strider you're embarrassing the fuck out of me, why did I think this would be a good idea, Past Me is such a fucker, I can't believe I fell into your master plan, it's obvious you were just hell bent into coming here and indulging your own sadistic, sick pleasures, leaving me standing there like a potted rootplant–"

"Karkat," Dave leaned forwards, pushing his shades down enough that Karkat could see his crimson eyes.

The sight, as usual, made the troll's rant burst into bubbles.

"Shoosh," Dave continued, though he made no motion to pap the other. They weren't in a Moirallegiance, after all. "Calm down, ok? Jeez, you make it sound like we didn't have fun earlier on".

Karkat's lips turned into a thin, displeased pout. "Well, fuck you Dave, I–"

"We have time for that later, I'm not fond of having people stare at my naked ass in a mall. Besides, they know my Bro and I'm not quite fond of having them flash my picture on the Wall of Shame this month," he coughed into his hand, and the cough sounded suspiciously like 'again'. He quickly returned his full attention on the troll. "Who was the one who wanted to grab something 'romantic' to eat, so we got an ice-cream and shared it with a straw?"

"Well–" Karkat's cheeks reddened even more. He hadn't expected Dave to actually do that, even if that hadn't been what Karkat had meant at all, but the result had been pleasant anyway.

"Who was the one who ended up renting a chick-flick to watch tonight, curled up on our sofa, with a bag of freshly-made popcorns?"

"Well, I–"

"Then shouldn't we also do something that amuses me, too?"

Rolling his eyes, but admitting his loss, Karkat shrugged. "Ok, well, fuck, let's just waste our time here, I have no idea why I–"

Tuning his boyfriend-slash-matesprit out, just like every other time he started a rant Dave had no intentions to listen to, the human walked down the aisle of the fantasy section of the bookstore, glancing around for inspiration.

He quickly found what he was looking for neatly stashed in the front row, and glancing around to make sure there were no clerks to catch him, he grabbed a copy of the last Harry Potter book and opened the cover.

It cracked slightly, the sound followed by a whiff of new-book smell that Dave knew Terezi would dig hard, and he glanced around one last time before slipping a note between the cover and the first page of the book, placing it down again and walking away.

He stopped when Karkat, obnoxious as usual, walked right where he'd left the book, grabbed it and opened it to read the note.

Dave observed with a good degree of amusement as Karkat's face twisted into a pained grimace that was a mix of anger, defeat and –was that a small twinge of amusement he saw? Maybe there was still some hope for him after all.

His hopes were confirmed when instead of taking the note away, Karkat placed the book back down on the table and stomped over, punching him on the shoulder.

"You bludgeoning nooksniffing moron," there was definitely amusement somewhere in his voice. Deep, deep down, but Dave could _feel_ it. "You can't put notes with 'harry dies, dumbledores gay' in there!"

With a shrug, Dave grabbed The Hobbit and slipped a note inside its cover too, before wandering away from the fantasy section.

Karkat hesitated –he'd thought Dave actually liked the Hobbit, so he wasn't sure he wanted to check what he'd left in there– but in the end, swallowed his silly insecurities and peered inside.

The note put a small smile on his lips.

'good choice man, ten strider points to you. and a brownie. heave ho! splash plump!'

Rolling his eyes he glanced up, and saw Dave slip another note inside a book from the detective section. Dave saw him looking and gave him a thumbs up, then motioned for him to turn the note around.

Karkat did so, and groaned loudly. 'ps: you lost the game'.

"C'me here, babe, give me a hand I can't do them all by myself," Dave motioned for him to come close, and when Karkat reluctantly agreed, not sure why he was but willing to go along with Dave's stupid ass-plans, he was handed a pack of notes, all neatly written in Dave's red pen.

"How long did it take you to write down all these?" genuinely curious, Karkat shifted through the first few. A lot of those were clearly for detective books, with a neat explanation of who died and who was the killer. "Wait a fucking moment, 'the culprits the hot neighbour'? What book is this one for?"

"Just put them into those books at random man, nobody will be the wiser," Dave pushed Karkat towards a shelf, and subtly copped a feel as he did so, appreciating Karkat jumping like he'd been bitten.

"You f–"

"Less ranting, more note-sharing," Dave smirked, before skipping down the aisle, looking for romance books.

Karkat stared at the stash of notes in his hands, half a mind to just shove them into the nearest bin and be done with it, then his eyes fell on one of the detective books on the nearest shelf, and cringed.

That book had been horrible, by all means, with a storytelling that was only good for trash books, bad plot and disappointing ending, and the gore promised had been lacking and depressingly lacking descriptions.

He looked at the notes, but there wasn't one that conveyed enough of his disdain in those Dave had handed him, so he took a pen from his pocket and proceeded to add a bit of his own thoughts on the book on the back of one of the notes.

'SERIOUSLY FUCKER, IF YOU THOUGHT ABOUT BUYING THIS SHIT THEN THINK TWICE AND DO YOUR ROTTEN THINKPAN A FUCKING FAVOUR, WILL YOU. I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH SHITTY HUMAN LITERATURE IN A WHILE AND BELIEVE ME, I HAVE SEEN A FUCKING LOT. IF YOU SO WANT TO BURN YOUR HARD-EARNED LOOT SO MUCH, I'D SUGGEST TO COVER IT IN COOKING OIL AND USE IT TO ROAST MARSHMALLOWS. IT WOULD GIVE THAT POOR MONEY A DIGNIFIED END.'

With a righteous huff, he shoved the note inside the book and stomped down to the next table, feeling justified in his fury and very much proud of himself and his ability to convey his words.

Despite the stupidity of the idea, it actually felt rather therapeutic, and Karkat managed to find every single book he'd ever read, filling them with righteous hate-messages until he'd covered every single one of Dave's notes with his messy, grey lines.

Only then did he shake himself out of his self-induced stupor, checking around the shop to see where Dave was.

He found him still in the romance section, staring down with an emotionless face at two piles of minty fresh books with dark covers.

"Oi, Strider, did you finish with your mindboggling absurd book-related idiocies, or should we create a fort with all those books and sleep in there for the night? I remind you we have a movie to watch and I do not tolerate attempts to avoid the fate you welcomed so readily back at the BlockBuster".

Dave looked up. His face twisted in a pained grimace.

"I only have one note left," he stated, his voice almost shaking. "I have no idea which book is worth it _more_".

Karkat glanced down.

One of the piles was full of Twilight books. The other proudly displayed the 50 Shades of Grey series.

He visibly cringed.

"Hand over that note or I'll have you eat it," he demanded.

Dave complied, clearly lost, and Karkat read the note.

'are you crazy man no stop don't buy this shit its like the worst thing ever after smuppets and trolls in red sweaters who just wont stop talking. please dont do this to yourself no. stop come on i can feel your brain cells dying there just put this down and run while you still can'.

Nodding to himself, Karkat had to admit he would have been hard pressed to choose one as worst book ever.

He'd read good porn –hell, he knew a couple friends who could write such good porn they'd put to shame any silly fanfic writer who tried selling their fics as homage to another shitty series (and both were in the process of having their shit published so it wouldn't take long till the world got some good material)– so the 50 Shades of Shit had it cut down, but… Twilight had the power of making even Porrim cringe and rant at levels never seen before.

Which Karkat had to respect, in a way. It took Porrim a lot to start her rants when Kankri wasn't involved.

He grabbed his pen and the last note he'd left –Dave's writing simply said 'bluh', so he had quite enough space to soothe all his bad feelings– and pondered over what to write. He could feel Dave hovering above his shoulders, focused on his hand, and the closeness made him lose focus for a short while.

He guessed he looked forwards to going back home more for the cuddling that would ensue on said sofa rather than the actual movie-watching.

He decided to be short and to the point.

'I KNOW YOU LACK THE ABILITY TO GROUP LETTERS TOGETHER TO FORM ACTUAL WORDS THAT MAKE SENSE, AND THAT IS WHY YOU DECIDED TO PICK THIS BOOK TO BUY, BUT WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE SPIRIT OF MIND TO EXIT THE BOOKSTORE WITHOUT NEEDING A PURGE TO WASH AWAY THE FILTHY STAINS THIS BOOK WILL LEAVE ON YOUR SOUL, FEEL FREE TO STEP BACK AND AVOID WASTING YOUR MONEY ON AN ILLETTERATE AUTHOR WITH TOO MUCH TIME ON HER HANDS AND TOO FEW LITERARY COURSES UNDER HER WING. SPARE YOUR THINKPAN THE TORTURE, RUN WHILE YOU CAN'.

He paused, then flipped the note and continued to write around Dave's 'bluh'.

'ON THE OTHER HAND, IF YOU ENJOY BURNING YOUR OPTICAL VISORS IN SUCH A WAY, THEN PLEASE GO AHEAD. I SHALL BE READY TO FUCKING LAUGH ON THE TOMB OF YOUR INTELLIGENCE'.

Once again feeling like he'd done a good deed, Karkat grabbed one inch of the cover of 50 Shades and quickly pushed the note inside, not wanting to touch the book too long, for fear of being contaminated.

Dave hummed in appreciation, tugging him into his arms and slowly leaving a series of wet kisses from his cheek to his mouth, smiling all the while.

"So don't you dare say this was a bad idea, Karkat," he stated, looking smug and chipper as he intertwined his fingers with the troll's own, leading him out of the bookstore.

"Of all the shitty, useless ideas you've spawned during this date-day, well, I have to admit I could be amenable to condoning you for this particular one, Dave," he grudgingly replied, tugging the human closer to him. "Now fuck this shit. Let's go home".

"One-hour-long sloppy makeout session incoming, yes sir Vantas sir".

"Shut up Strider, or I'm going to make you watch the movie on the floor".

"Oooh, burns".


End file.
